


Baby, please

by mhunter10



Series: Geek! Mickey [8]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ass Play, Blow Jobs, Bottom Ian, Dancer Ian, Explicit Sexual Content, Fights, Geek Mickey, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Makeup Sex, Misunderstandings, Praise Kink, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Doubt, Top Mickey Milkovich, Underwear Kink, Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-01 13:39:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8626603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: Mickey decides to surprise Ian at work, but feels bad about himself because of what he sees.





	1. doubt

**Author's Note:**

> people have been asking for jealous/insecure mickey

Mickey smiled awkwardly at the bouncer as he passed through the door of the club, sliding his ID back into his wallet and pushing his glasses up. He had never been to the club during the day, so he felt nervous and knew for a fact people thought he was a pervert...not that they didn't already when they saw his sensible shoes, khakis and combed hair. He touched it to make sure it was still perfectly in place, but it was more because he was there to see Ian. He ignored the unfamiliar stares of the few men that were present on a Thursday afternoon, and searched for where his boyfriend might be. Ian had complained about being called in to work a dead shift. He'd gotten so worked up about it, he fucked Mickey three times in a row. It had helped greatly, but Mickey wanted to do more because he didn't like for Ian to be upset. He thought a visit would be just the thing to cheer him up, and maybe some cookies from the bakery near his office would seal the deal. Mickey smiled just thinking about how Ian's face would light up, and blushed when he thought about how Ian would thank him later. He tried his best to push away the feeling that his efforts weren't wanted. He loved taking care of the people he loved and he showed that by doing little things; anything that would make people like him. An unfortunate result of years of feeling like he couldn't please anyone no matter what he said or did, which only made him try harder. But now he saw it as one of his better qualities. He could make someone like Ian happy just by being himself.

Although it wasn't as crowded as it usually was at night, there were still quite a few patrons in one area. Mickey figured it was his best bet to assume Ian was the cause. He tended to draw a crowd no matter what time of day it was. People would kill for that kind of presence. But as he got closer, he realized his boyfriend wasn't on the main stage. He looked around thinking he was instead serving drinks, but couldn't find him anywhere. As he neared a corner of the club he'd never really been to before, he couldn't help but drift towards a gap in some curtains that seemed to be calling to him. He looked around nervously, suddenly feeling like someone was watching him, before getting closer and peering inside. Ian was on a small platform surrounded by men on couches. It was a private party. The men were acting like giddy teenagers, drunk and horny and running on pure frat mentality. They were loud and rowdy, and obviously not heeding the rules set by the club, but Ian was there in the middle of it. Mickey stood there unable to think or breathe for a few seconds. Ian hadn't mentioned this was what he'd be doing. He also wasn't wearing his usual shorts, but a blue thong he was letting the men pull at playfully as they stuffed money in it. Mickey swallowed hard and fixed his glasses, not sure what to do with himself. He felt wrong. Watching Ian work always made him get hot and hard, but right now it was conflicting with the sight of different hands touching his man. He felt bad for thinking of Ian as his, but he'd heard it so much he'd started to believe it. Ian was always telling him that he owned him, and it would make him feel uncomfortable with anyone else, but Ian made him feel in control. Now he felt completely out of control. His eyes started to prickle and sting, his heart felt heavy in his chest and he was shaking.

Ian wasn't dancing so much as writhing on his little stage in his own personal spotlight. His skin shimmered, his hair fell into his face, and he wore more eyeliner than he usually did. He looked absolutely beautiful and sexy at the same time. It was driving Mickey mad. He wanted so badly to barge in and...he clapped his hand to his mouth like he had let out the thought that had just crossed his mind. He couldn't believe this was affecting him so much. He wanted to scream and yell, but instead he stayed frozen and silent like so many times before when he felt like he didn't have the right to step in. His sneakers were rooted to the floor, but he wished he had the courage to smash them in all the men's faces. It hurt his head to see Ian enjoying the attention. It made him sick to see Ian initiating and engaging them. Ian dipped his finger into one of their drinks and let it drip down his body, then beckoned the man to lick it with a coy smile. Another pulled Ian into their lap to grope and feel him. Mickey didn't know why he couldn't look away. It was awful but he couldn't move. And then Ian was shoving a particularly good-looking guy down on the platform and fake-fucked him, snapping his hips into his ass like he'd done to Mickey's the night before.

Mickey broke. Tears spilled from his eyes and he didn't have enough tissues neatly folded in his pocket. He was frustrated and hurt, fogging up his glasses like the sad and lonely boy he apparently still was. And he couldn't shake the knowledge that he should've known better. He shouldn't have been so happy. He shouldn't have ever wanted something so bad, because it always got taken away from him. He wasn't worth anything. No one could possibly love him for real or be satisfied with just him. A sob escaped his throat and even over the disgusting shouting of the party, Ian looked up and stopped when he saw Mickey quickly backing away from the curtain. Mickey stumbled back and fell on the floor, as Ian emerged with the sound of disappointed groans behind him.

"Mickey! Are you okay? What are--"

"D-d..d-don't..t-touch.." Mickey stuttered, trying to pull himself up without Ian's help.

"Mick, what's going on?" Ian asked, looking confused and worried and flustered.

"Ay, hot stuff! Get your sweet ass back here!" A man yelled. There were cheers.

"We still got you for another thirty minutes!" Another chimed in to more cheers and shouts.

Mickey got to his feet, still not letting Ian close to him. His hands were trembling, as he adjusted his glasses on his wet face.

"Were you trying to surprise me?" Ian asked, ignoring the restless men and focusing just on his boyfriend. Mickey couldn't look at him. He couldn't even speak.

"Baby, please," Ian reached for him.

Mickey shook his head and left.


	2. pwned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey talk things out, and Mickey is given the reigns as a reminder of what he has.

He didn't go back to work. He went straight back home and threw himself onto his bed, not caring that he was wrinkling the duvet and staining his pillow with his tears. He did remove his shoes first, though, he wasn't an animal. When he'd composed himself enough with the help of his inhaler, Mickey called in and told the secretary he had eaten something bad for lunch. It wasn't a total lie, so he didn't feel that bad. His stomach turned every time he thought about what those guys were doing to Ian. His Ian. The one that had smiled and kissed him goodbye that morning.

"Well, shoot, Mickey," he pitied himself, grabbing from the box of tissues on his nightstand and dabbing at his face and nose. His mother always told him never to wipe roughly if he didn't want an irritated nose. She also told him he'd find someone special who thought he was special too, but now he was starting to question both. Fucking hell. He looked at his phone and saw three missed calls and several texts. Ian was trying to reach him, but for what? Mickey wasn't even sure he wanted to know what he had to say. Tears stung his eyes again, as he realized what a lie that was. He couldn't even bring himself to eat Ian's cookies out of spite or for his own comfort, so he set them aside in case...

There was knocking at his door. Ian called his name. Mickey dried his face some more and placed his glasses back on, adjusting them the whole way to the door. Ian sounded desperate and worried, but he didn't bang or get louder. He knew how Mickey felt about being a courteous neighbor. It made his heart hurt how much Ian cared about everything he ever told him. He didn't know why he'd gotten so hysterical, but it had been brewing under the surface for a little while. He smoothed his shirt and touched his black frames once more before opening the door.

"Jesus, Mick! You weren't at work, so I came here. What's going on?" Ian came inside once Mickey stepped aside, but he grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the couch. They sat down and Ian searched his eyes, fidgeting with nervous energy. "What happened?"

Mickey swallowed, rubbing the hand Ian wasn't holding up and down his leg. "F-felt sick," he mumbled, breaking eye contact.

"Bullshit, Mickey," Ian took Mickey's chin and made him look at him. Mickey felt his dick twitch at the action, and pulled his hands into his lap. Ian sighed, sensing his conflict. "You were trying to surprise me?" he asked calmly.

Mickey nodded, biting his lip. "You-you were upset...j-just wanted to make you...happy," he admitted.

"Why did you run away from me like that, though?"

Mickey felt his face get hot. Looking back, he'd been embarrassingly pathetic, crying and acting like a little kid. But he had felt like one, in that club surrounded by the same boys who always got whatever they wanted, and made him feel discouraged. He wasn't like them and he'd never be like them, so he didn't deserve the things they got. He couldn't expect anyone to ever like him or want him the same way he liked and wanted them. He was a loser and he'd always be a loser. And he'd stay a loser if he let himself believe otherwise. Ian had been a light for him when he felt things would never change. His eyes watered and he ducked his head. He was angry at himself and mad at Ian. He pulled away when Ian tried to touch him again.

"Baby, what's wrong? Please, just tell me--"

"Things were st-starting to be different...you made me feel like, like it was okay to b-be me," Mickey blurted out as best he could. "Like...I-I was good enough."

"But Mickey, you are. What are you talking about?"

Mickey shook his head, "No, d-don't. Don't p-p-pity me."

"What are you saying? I don't pity you, Mick. I don't. I can't..."

"Yeah, you c-can't because I'm not worth it. I don't even get that, I'm s-s-so low on your radar," Mickey wanted to scoff, but instead he hiccuped on his quick breaths. He got up and started pacing, making sure he was picking up his socked feet so he wouldn't generate a charge. He thought about shocking Ian like he had been shocked at the club.

"That's not true!" Ian pleaded.

Mickey stopped pacing and pointed at him. "You lied to me, Ian!" he shouted, hating raising his voice. It was so unlike him, it felt weird to be directing it at his...boyfriend? He swallowed and touched his glasses, seeing Ian's surprised face. But he had to continue, he had to get this out or he really would be the sad weak man everyone made him feel like. "All I wanted was to be happy and make someone else happy. I thought I had finally found the one person who didn't take one look at me and laugh or feel bad. I started to think that I wasn't just some stuttering geek, and that somebody wanted me back for once. And it felt so good. So good, Ian," he trailed off.

Ian sat still, watching him and waiting. It made Mickey's throat feel tight. He took a hit of his inhaler and tried to breath normally, but his chest still hurt. He felt cold and lightheaded and just wanted to forget all of this had happened and have Ian hold him. He shook his head, ashamed of himself for still being so stupid. He sighed.

"I was a fool to think someone like you would seriously be with me. I should've never believed any of it. I should've j-just...listened and realized what was right in front of me."

"Listened to who, baby? Did Lip say something to you? Is that what your friends are saying?" Ian sounded desperate and defensive, trying to find out who to blame for however put these ideas in Mickey's head against him.

Mickey sat down in his chair, taking his glasses off to wipe at his eyes. He put them back on and looked at Ian, feeling lower than ever. "I don't...have any friends," he said quietly.

Ian's face fell. He came over and kneel down in front of him, tentatively placing a hand on his thigh. "Mickey..."

Mickey shook his head, but he didn't know why. He didn't want Ian to feel bad for him. He felt bad enough for himself already. But Ian's hand felt warm on him and he couldn't stop his hand from covering it. Ian seemed to relax and take it as a sign that things weren't so tense between them. Ian licked his lips and Mickey wanted to kiss him. He was exhausted.

"I'm sorry, Mickey. I'm sorry if I made you think I was...different. I was trying so hard to...be...not me. I lied because I didn't want you to think that I liked doing my job. I mean, you knew what I was doing before we got together, but...you were this smart, funny, cute guy and I was...the slutty fantasy."

Mickey's eyebrows furrowed. "Ian, wait, what are you talking about? Is that what you think I meant? That someone who does what you do can't be in a real relationship? Is that how you see yourself?"

Ian shrugged, looking away. "I came to terms with it a long time ago. People thinking I'm only good for what I put on stage. And maybe I am, but then you came along and made me feel...not like a piece of meat." Ian laughed to himself, but then looked sad. "You heard what those guys were saying. They don't want me to be the boyfriend. They want me to be the dirty little secret, the one night stand. I was afraid you would start to think that about me too, if I...seemed like I enjoy it too much."

"No, Ian, I could never think that about you. You're so...you....you're freaking you! I don't know...I don't know," Mickey chuckled, suddenly feeling giddy. "You're beautiful and patient and kind, you care about me and know what you like. You're so confident and nice. I wanted to be guys like you," he admitted, blushing.

Ian snorted, although he looked bashful at Mickey's words. "I wanted to be like you. Intelligent and hardworking and generous. I'm just a dummy who was smart enough to use my body for something good."

Mickey couldn't stand it anymore. He pulled Ian into a kiss, skewing his glasses and making them laugh into each other's mouths. "I'm sorry. I was the dummy. Sometimes I get scared and...feel bad about myself. I compare myself to others and remember my past, and it still hurts sometimes. I don't know why it got to me so badly."

Ian kissed him again, lingering for a moment. "I love you, Mickey. You own my ass," he grinned.

Mickey fixed his glasses and grinned too, happy that they had gotten past this. He never liked confrontation. He wasn't good at it. But he was just glad Ian still wanted him just as much as before, if not more by the way he was looking at him now.

"I need you. Please," Ian's voice was deep and lust-filled. He rubbed both hands on Mickey's thighs, getting closer and closer to his crotch. He started to pull on the bottom of his shirt so it came out of his pants. He kissed and licked at his neck, as he slid his belt from the loops. "Please, baby," he panted, reaching down to palm himself through his jeans. He moaned in Mickey's ear, pawing at his chest under his shirt.

Mickey was instantly aroused. Ian was grabbing at him and begging between kisses. He had his pants and boxers off in no time and licked up his shaft. Mickey gasped, rising into the heat a little.

"I want to be yours. Show me," Ian breathed before taking Mickey into his mouth. He slid his hands underneath his ass and squeezed, looking up at him through his lashes. He wanted Mickey to fuck his mouth and he wanted Mickey to look at him while he did it.

"Oh God, Ian," Mickey was breathing hard. He reached out and held his boyfriend's head still, as he let himself thrust in and out of his wet mouth. It was the best sort of torture. He looked down into green eyes, as he picked up his pace, and Ian groaned around him. He pushed him off and he whined, but quickly held his arms up for Mickey to take his shirt off. "Get those off," Mickey demanded without stuttering, pointing to Ian's jeans.

"Fuck, yes," Ian complied, clearly getting more turned on and needy just from Mickey's tone. He shoved his jeans down, revealing that he still had on the blue thong he had at the club. Mickey's eyes went wide and Ian smiled coyly, but it reached his eyes this time. This wasn't an act. He loved having Mickey's eyes on him. He craved it. He sat in front of Mickey and waited for him to say something.

Mickey couldn't believe how amazing Ian looked, even though he was well aware of how truly incredible his body was. The barely-there garment that had caused him so much pain before, was giving him so much pleasure now that Ian's attention was on him and he was ready for anything Mickey asked of him. "Turn around...w-want to see you."

Ian slowly turned, exaggerating his movements until he was on his elbows with his ass in the air, presenting himself to the man that was driving him wild. He looked back at him, face pressing into the carpet, with a small hopeful smile that Mickey liked what he saw.

Mickey didn't know how he didn't notice it before, but there was a little silk bow right at the top of the string of fabric that disappeared between Ian's lush, pale ass cheeks. Mickey reached out and touched it, then followed the line down the middle until he felt the unmistakable ring of tight muscle just under it. He played with the fabric, tugging it up so it pulled Ian's balls and gave him a slight wedgie. Ian gasped and moaned, eyes closing for a moment before forcing them open to witness Mickey's pure captivation. Finally, Mickey pulled the thin fabric aside and exposed him. He licked his lips at the way Ian clenched his hole. His dick was leaking. He thought he could come just from looking at Ian spread and open like this for him. He rubbed dryly at his hole with his thumb and liked the way it puckered. He rarely saw this part of Ian, but he was loving it. And most of all he was enjoying that Ian was giving it to him.

"You're so pretty," he heard himself say, like Ian had said so many times to him. "So pretty." He squeezed and tapped his butt. He leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to the furled skin.

"Baby, please...shit, fucking...need you," Ian yelped, pushing his ass up more and scrabbling at the carpet. Mickey made the kiss wet, letting his tongue poke out just a little, and Ian arched and keened. "Ohh, Mickey!"

Mickey cursed, pulling back and carefully putting the thong back in place. He stood and pulled Ian up so he was on his knees facing him again. He kissed him roughly, then held his mouth open so he could shove his cock inside. Mickey kept his eyes on Ian, as he fucked his mouth slowly. He could see Ian wanting to touch himself, and was surprised when he liked that he resisted. The blue fabric bulged and confined him, but he stayed watching Mickey and taking him so good.

"So good...you take me so good, Ian," Mickey panted. Ian swallowed around him and flicked his tongue, driving him insane. He could feel himself getting close, but he wanted more of Ian. He pushed him off again, then shoved him down on the floor, pulling and manipulating him until he was on all fours again, with his knees out to the side. Ian whimpered and cursed at Mickey's handling of him, sweating and breathing hard. Mickey pulled just the back of the thong aside once more, loving how it stretched and pulled. The color made Ian's skin even more perfect. The bow and Ian's neediness made him impossibly harder. He made quick work of spitting on Ian's hole and opening him up with a finger.

"Fuck, baby. Now, I'm good...I'm ready, need you...need you so bad, Mick," Ian practically cried. Mickey had only gotten to one finger, but it was enough and not enough at the same time.

Mickey spit on his cock then lined up, he pushed inside slowly despite how eager he was to penetrate his boyfriend fully. He moaned the whole way, sinking in until he couldn't go anymore. He pulled out and pushed in again, feeling that he wouldn't last long. Sure, he'd done this before. Screwed guys instead of how he preferred, but this was the first time with Ian. His Ian. The one person he wanted to ever do this with again. The one that wanted him and only him, just the way he was. The one that looked so beautiful on his floor, saying his name with every thrust and repeating that he's his, and wants to be his.

Mickey pulled out and spilled his load all over that pretty blue thong and that little bow. He rubbed his sensitive head in the mess and soft fabric until he wasn't shaking anymore.

Ian turned around and reached for Mickey. "I'm close," he licked into his mouth, kissing him hard and fast and sloppy. He stroked his dick through the thong, keeping his lips attached to Mickey's as long as he could.

Mickey knew what to do. He pulled back, wrapping Ian in his arms close but not impeding his movements. He caught his eyes and watched him. "I love you."

Ian's cum made a matching wet spot on the front of the underwear.

Mickey had never seen anything more perfect and sexy and beautiful and all his.

He hugged Ian close and Ian hugged him back.

Ian kissed his neck and pulled his hair slightly.

"Good boy."

 


End file.
